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The Weredragon

Day Zero

It starts with the quickening of his heart's normally steady rhythmic beat. The eighteen year old stumbles, rubber soles catching upon one of the stone steps. He falls forward, all balance lost but with outstretched hands he lands without hitting his head. A shocking pain tears up along his spine as the change begins. He was warned of this, crazy warnings of a curse that had been levied upon him. Too late to do anything to prevent it now. Down on the cellular level arcane forces are changing him even remapping his genome.

Metabolic processes speed up to help provide the force for this change; all it fuelled by the same magicka of course. Perspiration is heavy upon his brow and as he looks back up at the path before him everything is blurred. It is as though he is wearing safety goggles that have steamed up. Looking back down at his hands he can see them transform. Each digit is growing longer, whilst his skin is peeling away to something else coming up and even his fingernails are changing into something more primal.

Clothes rip and tear, shredded fabric falling away from a now massively enlarged body. If he could view himself from the outside he would see his bone structure and muscle density has increased somewhere between five and ten times. His body is now massive with his height pushing five stories tall, but the transformation is not even halfway done. Next he can see something elongate in front of his eyes and realises that it is his own mouth. A snout of sorts forms, not exactly a very long muzzle but pronounced nonetheless. There also seems to be added weight to his scalp, an indication of two boney structures which are growing out either side of his head.

Something startles him from behind. It is a fifth limb, a tail which is sprouting from his tailbone. The tail grows quickly, gaining length and girth it soon swings onto the ground, dragging dust up with it. Looking over his shoulder he sees that the tail is scaly and peppered with a serrated formation along its top. It is only now that he also notices the difference in his skin. No longer a porous wrapping of mammalian flesh, it is now hard and scaly. Suddenly a new boney spike grows out of the shoulder blade he is looking over just now, obscuring the view of his new tail a little. He looks back in front of him and struggles to pick himself up. Whatever this is, it is not about to kill him.

Digitigrade feet with a massive set of three thick claws sink into the ground for traction. His bigger spine lifts the increased mass of his body up as he stands up straight. He is frightened and still in physical pain due to the continuing metamorphosis, but nonetheless there is a fascination unraveling from deep inside of him. He looks down at his new outstretched hands. Each one is covered in a thick hide of obsidian black scales, but the best part are the wicked equally dark razors protruding from the ends of each digit; these are predator claws. Taking things in stride is denied him though as a final shockwave of pain detonates all across his back. He screams and a roar rolls out of his throat like a jet turbine spinning up.

Two spikes shoot out of his back, each one as black as the rest of his scaly body. They begin to grow and spindles spread out from each one. A webbing rapidly grows to fill in the gaps between them before it grows stronger and settles to make up a pair of massive wings. Looking back over one spiked shoulder and then the other he checks on each one, instinctively knowing how to flap them before allowing them to fold back into their resting state. It is done now, everything is complete and the curse has affected the full force of its transformative effects. Although there is something else the boy was innocently unaware of until just now.

Something is slapping, beating, swinging between his legs. Looking down his mouth gaps open, displaying a cavern of ravenous teeth, as his slitted blue and red eyes fall upon something large. Although much of his body is now built for durability with thick scales and natural bone armour plating, this part is bare free for show. His phallus now runs down to touch his knees, which themselves are a fair more distant from the base of his legs than before. It is black, but not with the coarse scales like much of the rest of him. Reaching for it he grips the base of the flaccid shaft and lifts it up, admiring the size and texture. Apart from the shear size of a yet still soft daemonic penis, it now also features other enhancements. Being careful of the claws he begins to rub his thumb over the top, brushing it against strange ridges and barbs which adorn it in esoteric patterns.

His heartbeat quickens for a second time since the transformation started. Without even realising it the boy has let in the very accursed perversions which rule over his transformation. The member begins to grow, length and girth rapidly expanding within his grasp. It feels great, as though every nerve in is entire being is focused upon that one part of his body. There is no such thing as resisting this and with a tightened grip he begins to stroke the engorging cock.

It expands to his touch, an ebbing heat burning up in his loins which dangle pendulously between his thick and muscled scaly thighs. Growing and growing still, inch after inch, foot after throbbing foot continues to protrude from his crotch. He looks down at it, a hint of pride overpowered by pure lust in his expression now. His tongue hangs out, a slightly forked organ which adds to a dog like panting. The head of the enormous thing is starting to drool now. A heady musk rises up and fills the teenage beast's slitted nostrils on the end of his new face. Beads become drops become a steady seeping flow of pre-ejaculate juice.

Stroking is becoming easier now, his hand is slick wet with the pre from his achingly erect penis. Whilst his right hand is busy working the monolithic shaft, his left hand goes down to cup his heavy balls. They are sensitive to the touch at first, a surprising difference until he realises how full they are. Rich and creamy contents sloshes around inside either pair of the huge scaled testes. This is not the genitalia of a man, but of a monster, huge and laborious. He needs to do more.

Exercising the strength in his new and thick tail, the beast lowers himself onto his own back whilst both hands remain occupied. The enormous erection droops over abdominal muscles and pectorals. Its wet head slobbers over his chest and the scent is closer to his mouth and nostrils. Although he is too far gone to realise, what started as *only* a couple of feet between his legs is now pushing eight whole gloriously throbbing feet of malehood. It meets his eyes and he leans forward, straining his neck, in order to greet it with a lustful kiss.

An exotic taste explodes onto his tastebuds, its bittersweet texture excites him. A loud growl rumbles down in the back of his throat. He stops fondling his balls to squeeze at the base of the magnificent member with both hands. The ridges and barbs are protruding all over the turgid length, each one a sensitive tip on the end of a nerve laying out a minefield for him to explore. Hungry for more he force himself down, hips bucking as his tail and folded wings steady him from tipping over.

Over two dozen feet of throbbing monster cock squeezes past the giant reptile's lips. His tongue lashes over his cock, both that inside his mouth and that still outside. That which does not get the loving licks of his to tongue are stroked and squeezed on by his powerful hands. Time seems to escape, causality falling into the cracks of a new expansively erogenous experience. The beast's mind is as putty within the hot and sticky experience of his own auto fellatio.

Sticky pre is everywhere, on his hands, on his chest. He thrusts wildly, fucking his own face whilst stopping himself from choking on the enormous erection. His firm, tight buttocks lifts off the ground as his thrusts get more powerful, only for them to come back down with a loud thud. Vibrations from his movements and his own deeply seated growling are travelling along the ground. To a passerby the sight, sound and smell would shock them in more ways than one.

This display of carnal self serving delight does not last forever. Loins boil with expectant release and at some point his hands are the transition to squeeze onto each of their plump round orbs desperately. Just now the thick base of his erection swells up, a knot forming, as a precursor. There is a noticeable delay as their burden travels down via his humongous eight feet megalith. Inexperience can only be compensated so much by his new body and his own explosive ejaculation catches him out completely. A tremendous load from the first jet alone fill his mouth, pours down his throat and jets out of his nostrils as it cannot be swallowed fast enough. More loads come, one after the next in a never ending cascade of thick tasty seed.

Unable to keep up he pulls away from his own phallus and the fleshy spire swings free gayly. It becomes stiff as a tower, taller than a man, as it points up toward the skies and shoots again and again. He roars with passionate delight of his own release with cum stained lips. Jets of white soar into the air and then come back down in loud and messy splashes. His entire scaly body is covered, plastered really, with one heavy load after the next. His heavy balls twitch as they finally begin unloading the last. That enormous length pulsating hard, it writhes for a bit before now coming back down. It lands in its own mess, curved to one side on his abdominal muscles as the head keeps oozing the last of his pent up seed.

A calm sweeps over his mind and body. The beastly part of him is sated, for now, but the evening is not over. Just as he starts to get up, pushing thick wads of cum off himself in the process, he feels a cold presence. To describe it is almost entirely pointless. But let us say that it originates somewhere just over his head, like it is a headache with no pain and only a cool touch to his brain. Whatever the sensation is a analogous to, it is most certainly an unpleasant experience for him.

"Yesss." The word pours out like a thick treacle substance, filling up the cracks inside his conscious state. There are cracks? "You will be perfect."